[Click play above to stream ‘Cinitus’ from Bees Made Honey in the Vein Tree’s new album, Grandmother, out Feb. 28.]

It’s not just that the direction Germany’s Bees Made Honey in the Vein Tree take on their second album, Grandmother, is unexpected. It’s that they take that direction so well and so completely. The Stuttgart-based four-piece of guitarist/vocalist Simon Weinrich, guitarist Lucas Dreher, bassist Christopher Popowitsch and drummer/vocalist Marc Dreher made an impressive debut in 2017 with the similarly concisely-titled Medicine (review here), and thereby reveled in an expansive take on heavy psychedelia. Song structures were fluid, tones by and large were warm, and where vocals came up, they added to the overarching atmosphere of mellow exploration. In short: cool vibe, good record. The kind of thing that would make you want to chase down a follow-up.

Now, with Grandmother — a word that, like “medicine,” is bound to evoke some kind of image or emotion or at least association in the mind of just about anyone who sees it — the four-piece present through Pink Tank Records four tracks over the course of an expansive 45 minutes, infused with a linear dynamic split between its two sides. I’m not ready to call it post-metal, but there are times where its post-heavy psychedelia comes close, though as they show in the consuming 17-minute opener and by far longest track (immediate points) “Cinitus,” they’re no less likely to drone out on some cosmic doom à la the criminally undernoticed Mühr than they are to burst into a cacophonous echo of space rocking thrust before crashing into a massive roll and devolving to interweaving wisps of guitar effects. Really, “Cinitus” is an album unto itself — or at least an EP — but paired with the seven-minute “Craving” on side A, which presents a more straightforward linear build with vocals more direct in the mix, it highlights the scope that Bees Made Honey in the Vein Tree have so readily taken upon themselves. It’s not just about sounding big or broad — though they have both at their disposal, certainly — but about emotional conveyance through aesthetic expression. It is gorgeous and complex in kind.

Like a relationship. Like family. It’s never all joy, and it’s never all misery. It’s a concept or a theme that runs deep enough to encompass anything, and at the same time still be open to the interpretation of the listener. As “Cinitus” careens its way toward the massive rolling slowdown that hits just before the 10-minute mark, a stretch of vocals seem to call up from beneath the guitar to provide an essential human presence ahead of the drift to come, and it’s one more way in which the band showcase the thoughtfulness of the shift in sound presented throughout Grandmother. This is not the clumsy donning of a style. This isn’t a band trying something on to see how it fits. One gets the sense that somewhere in the two short years since Medicine, Bees Made Honey in the Vein Tree decided they wanted their sound to do something else, and as a unit, they consciously made a choice to work toward that.

Their success in that regard is writ large throughout “Cinitus” and “Craving,” as well as “Grandmother” and “Dionysus” on side B, which both run about 10 minutes to convey something of an evening out even as their structures remain varied within themselves, with the former patiently moving through a spacious progression underscored by tension in the drums and rumbling low end, while the band hold back the full blastoff for the latter — though perhaps the closer’s most effective moment is the stretch in its second half where it drops the wash of noise and lets the vocals carry a moment of clarity ahead of the finale. Either way, the ambient sense of Grandmother is crucial to its execution throughout, and for all the consciousness that may be at work in the band’s growth from the first album to the second, they don’t at all lose sight of the emotional context they’re bringing to the proceedings. In the pulls of the guitar in “Cinitus” or the way “Grandmother” resolves itself in a combination of stomp and surge before a last wash of cymbals and resonant guitar gives way to a sampled rainstorm, the songs are as much gut as brain. It’s the malleable direction of one over the other that makes Grandmother such a resounding offering.

The pairing of the title-track and “Dionysus” is especially telling in that despite their similar runtimes — recall “Cinitus” is more than 10 minutes longer than “Craving” back on side A — they’re deceptively different in the ground they cover. If one puts a narrative of mourning to the progression of songs, then the reference to the goddess governing wine and song — Bacchus to the Romans — might be seen as a repast, especially after that rainstorm. But either way, it is where Grandmother finds its ending, and there is a palpable sense of letting go as the last verse recedes just before it hits 7:30 and begins to transition into the last wash that serves as its culmination. Bees Made Honey in the Vein Tree are never out of control, in that moment or elsewhere, and that’s something they reinforce with a last return to the quiet guitar line that serves as central figure to the closer as they make their way out.

But that sense of control, too, is fluid, and if anything has carried over from the band’s prior outing, it’s their ability to hold sway over longform structures, toying with the listener’s consciousness while retaining a full hold on what they’re doing. They have taken on this breadth of approach in such a way that makes it easy to think they’ve “found” their niche and will from here work to refine it. That might happen, or it might not. But for a band who already seemed so sure of their take to turn elsewhere is remarkable. It shows not only are Bees Made Honey in the Vein Tree capable of such a thing, but they’re bold enough to actually do it and pull it off. As to where that might take their craft going forward, they’ve also just made themselves far less predictable, which is another of Grandmother‘s noteworthy achievements.

Finnish heavy psychedelic progressives Kaleidobolt have been working on new material and reportedly have — quoting now — ‘a ton and a half’ of new material to sift through in the making of their next record, which will be the follow-up to 2016’s sub-radar stunner The Zenith Cracks (review here). One imagines their upcoming tour which, hey how about that, starts tonight, will be a major factor in that sifting process, as the band have said they’ll look into recording afterwards, no doubt trying to capture some of their residual stage energy and focus into a studio setting. A noble endeavor to be sure, and with a handful of shows booked in Finland for August, they might even have a timeline on getting the new record done before they head out again. Of course that’s speculation, but it’ll be worth keeping an eye on.

If you missed The Zenith Cracks, it’s streaming at the bottom of this post and well worth the time to dig into. Shows on the current tour are presented by Sound of Liberation, and the following comes from the PR wire:

Kaleidobolt is a power trio that came together in early 2014 in Helsinki. In the short time they’ve been together, they’ve gained the reputation of being one of the most exciting live bands around. Their music is a dizzying maelstrom of progressive song structures, crushing riffs and loose psychedelic soundscapes, delivered with joy and ferociousness. Their first self titled album was released 2015 and brought the guys a huge success all over the world. In between two European Tours Kaleidobolt recorded 8 new tracks which came out on their second album The Zenith Cracks on 01st of July 2016.

Okay, so this is it. The Quarterly Review definitely ends today. I’m not sneaking in a seventh day tomorrow or anything like that. This is it. The last batch of 10, bringing us to a grand total of 60 records reviewed between last Monday and now. That’s not too bad, if you think about it. Me, I’m a little done thinking about it, and if you’ll pardon me, I’m going to enjoy the time between now and late June/early July, in which for the most part I’ll be writing about one record at a time. The thought feels like a luxury after this week.

But hey, we made it. Thanks for reading along the way.

Quarterly Review #51-60:

Primordial, Exile Amongst the Ruins

Primordial’s flair for the epic has not at all abated over the years. The Irish post-black-metal forerunners follow-up 2014’s Where Greater Men Have Fallen with Exile Amongst the Ruins (on Metal Blade), and though there’s plenty of charge in “To Hell or the Hangman,” “Sunken Lungs” or “Upon Our Spiritual Deathbed,” with frontman Alan Averill proselytizing declarations as grandly as ever, one might read a certain amount of fatigue into the lyrics of songs like “Stolen Years” and the 10-minute closer “Last Call.” Granted, Exile Amongst the Ruins is 65 minutes long, so I don’t think the band has run out of things to say, but could it be that the cycle of writing, recording and touring is starting to wear on them some 25 years after their founding? I wouldn’t know or speculate, and like I said, Exile Amongst the Ruins retains plenty of its sonic force, the layering of the title-track and the preceding “Where Lie the Gods” offering a depth of sound to complement the complexity of their themes.

Dead Meadow, The Nothing They Need

Utter masters of their domain, Los Angeles’ Dead Meadow – comprised of guitarist/vocalist Jason Simon, bassist Steve Kille and drummer Juan Londono – mark 20 years of the band with the eight songs of The Nothing They Need (on Xemu Records), bringing in former members for guest spots mostly on drums but also guitar across a rich tapestry of moods, all of which happen to be distinctly Dead Meadow’s own. The ramble in opener “Keep Your Head” or “I’m So Glad” is unmistakable, and the fuzz of the six-minute “Nobody Home” bounces with a heavy psychedelic groove that should be nothing less than a joy to the converted. Recorded in their rehearsal space, released on their own label and presented with their own particularly blend of indie pulse, psych dreamscaping and more weighted tone, a song like the swaying eight-minute “The Light” is a reminder of everything righteous Dead Meadow have accomplished in their two decades, and of the vast spread their influence has taken on in that time. Perhaps the greatest lesson of all is that no matter who’s involved, Dead Meadow sound like Dead Meadow, which is about the highest compliment I can think of to pay them.

Taarna, Sanguine Ash

It’s not entirely clear what’s happening at the start of Taarna’s 29-minute single-song EP, Sanguine Ash, but the samples are vague and violent sounding and the noise behind them is abrasive. A strum and build takes hold as the Portland, Oregon, black metallers, who feature former members of Godhunter in their ranks, continue in the first couple minutes to develop a suicidal thematic, and six minutes in, a wash of static takes hold with drums behind it only to give way, in turn, to lush-sounding keys or guitar (could go either way) that patiently leads to a rumbling, roiling lurch of blacksludge. Cavern-vocals echo and cut through molasses tones and Taarna ride that malicious groove for the next several minutes until, at around 18:30, samples start again. This leads to more quiet guitar, resonant blackened thrust, noise, noise, more noise and a final emergent wash of caustic anti-metal that couldn’t possibly be clearer in its mission to challenge, repel and come across as completely fucked as it can. Done and done, you scathing bastards.

MaidaVale, Madness is Too Pure

I already discussed a lot of what is working so well on MaidaVale’s second album, Madness is Too Pure (The Sign Records), when I put up the video for “Oh Hysteria!” (posted here), but it’s worth reemphasizing the sonic leap the Swedish four-piece have made between their 2016 debut, the bluesy and well-crafted Tales of the Wicked West (review here) and this nine-song offering, which stretches far outside the realm of blues rock and encompasses psychedelic jamming, spontaneous-sounding explorations, brazen but not at all caustic vibes, and an overarching energy of delivery that reminds both of a live presentation and, on a song like “Gold Mine,” of what Death Alley have been able to revitalize in space-punk. Memorable progressions like that of “Walk in Silence” and the freaked out “Dark Clouds” offer standout moments, but really, it’s the whole album itself that’s the standout, and if the debut showed MaidaVale’s potential, Madness is Too Pure ups that factor significantly.

Black Willows, Bliss

About a year and a half after releasing their 2016 sophomore outing, Samsara (review here), Swiss post-doomers Black Willows return with a 19-minute single-song EP they’ve dubbed Bliss. It is utterly hypnotic. The sonic equivalent of watching a bonfire take hold of dry wood. It consumes with its dense heft of riff and then lulls the listener with stretches of minimalism and ambience, the first of which provides the intro to the piece itself. Black Willows are no strangers to working with longform material, and as Bliss also appears as the band’s half of a Bloodrock Records split with Craneium, it’s understandable they’d want to bring their best, but the weight of their groove feels unexpected even in terms of having heard their past work. So they’ve gotten heavier? Yeah, maybe. What really matters is how they wield that weight, and on Bliss, they put it to use as much as an atmospheric table-setter as in a display of sheer force. Beware the noise wash at the end. That’s all I’ll say.

Craang, Shine

Greek heavy psych rockers Craang set up a dynamic quickly on their new two-song full-length, Shine (also stylized as S H IN E) that both encourages and rewards patience and trust on the part of the listener. They begin 24:52 opener and longest track (immediate points) “Horizon – Tempest” quietly and commence to unfold through ebbs and flows, clean vocals and shouts, open spaces and dense(r) riffing. There is a break near and at the halfway point that presumably is the shift between one part of “Horizon – Tempest” and the other, and the second half follows that lead with a more active presentation. The accompanying “Ocean – Cellular” (19:41) launches with a bed of synth that fades as the bass, drums and guitar enter and begin a linear build that retains a progressive edge, dropping off at about eight minutes in perhaps as another transition into “Cellular,” which indeed follows a more winding, intricate path. One can only say Craang are clear in their representation of what they want to convey, and because of that, Shine is all the more of an engaging experience, the listener essentially following the band on this journey from place to place, idea to idea.

Fuzz Lord, Fuzz Lord

We start at “The Gates of Hell” and end up in “Infamous Evil,” so one might say Ohio trio Fuzz Lord – guitarist Steven “Fuzz Lord” joined by bassist/vocalist “Stoner” Dan Riley and drummer/vocalist Lawrence “Lord Buzz” – have their thematic well set on their eight-track self-titled debut (on Fuzzdoom Records). Likewise, their tones and the sense of space in the echoing vocals of “Kronos Visions Arise” and the later, extra-Sabbathian “World Collide” seem to know precisely where they’re headed. Riley recorded the 39-minute outing, while Justin Pizzoferrato (Elder, Dinosaur Jr., many others) mixed, and the resulting conjuration is earthbound in its low end while allowing the guitar to either roll out riffy largesse or take an airier approach. The uptempo “The Lord of the Underground” speaks to a punker underpinning, while the preceding “The Warriors Who Reign” seems to have a more classic metal take, and “Infamous Evil,” also the longest track at 7:51, peppers in layered guitar leads amid a doomier, Luciferian vibe and fervent hook.

Marijannah, Till Marijannah

Comprised of members of Wormrot and The Caulfield Cult, Singapore-based newcomers Marijannah execute four tracks of blown-out tones and psychedelic cavernousness with their Pink Tank Records debut release, Till Marijannah. Touches of garage swing make their way into opener “1974,” and second cut “Snakecharmer” blazes and scorches with wah-drenched solos around crunching rhythms and melodic vocalizations. A march emerges on the nine-minute “Bride of Mine” and only gets more fervent as the track makes its way forward, and driving finale “All Hollow’s Eve” presents a cacophonous but controlled take from Marijannah that reinforces the notion of nothing on their first outing happening by accident. Impressive and just a bit frenetic, it leaves one wondering what further ground the band might look to explore from here, whether they’ve set their sonic course and will look to refine their processes along these lines or whether this is just the beginning of a wider stylistic melding, and their next offering might sound completely different than Till Marijannah. The one seems as likely as the other, and that’s incredibly refreshing.

Cosmic Fall, In Search of Outer Space

Immediate points to Berlin jammers Cosmic Fall for opening their six-song/43-minute third album, In Search of Outer Space, with the 11-minute longest track “Jabberwocky.” The three-piece introduced new guitarist Marcin Marowski last year on Jams for Free (review here), and as bassist Klaus Friedrich steps up to take the vocalist role and drummer Daniel Sax continues to hold together impossible spaciousness with a fluidity of groove, Marowski seems right at home wah-noodling in the open reaches of “Jabberwocky” and soldering shred and swirl together on the later “Lumberjam.” Some of In Search of Outer Space’s most effective moments are its quietest, as on “Purification” or second cut “Narcotic Vortex,” but neither will I decry the bass fuzz that takes hold near the finish there or the molten churn that bookends closer “Icarus,” but as “Spacejam” hits into the vastness, it seems Cosmic Fall as just as apt to float as to rocket their way out of the atmosphere. In either case, they most certainly get there.

Owl, Orion Fenix

The solo-project of Christian Kolf of avant death-crunchers Valborg, Owl issues the 22-minute single-song EP Orion Fenix – with its chanting repetitions of “reborn in fire” – as a precursor to the upcoming LP, Nights in Distortion. Like Owl’s last EP, 2015’s wondrously dark Aeon Cult (review here), Orion Fenix is both intense churn and slow-rolling melancholy, bridging a gap between classic doom (that lead 15 minutes in) and post-doom rhythms and atmosphere. If the project’s purpose is to find beauty in darkness, Orion Fenix accomplishes this quickly enough, but the track’s runtime and lush layering allow Kolf to lend a sense of exploration to what is no doubt a meticulous creative process, since he’s handling all the instruments and vocals himself. Either way, Orion Fenix, as a herald, bodes remarkably well for forward progress on Nights in Distortion to come, and is a remarkable accomplishment on its own in both heft and spaciousness.

Netherlands-based three-piece Bismut are using their debut single in precisely the right way. For a band like this — instrumental, heavy, grooving and with ambitions toward a blend of structured and freeform songwriting, a lone track like “Buntovnost” is just the thing to pique audience interest and leave people curious as to what might come next. At very least, that’s how it worked out with me as I made my way through the nine-minute groover, asking myself where the band might go from here and how their apparent method — show up in the studio with something of a plan, work around it more than directly from it — might continue to develop in the future, either becoming invariably more or less rigid over time.

If I had to guess as to a direction listening to “Buntovnost,” I’d bet on Bismut — the Nijmegen trio of Huibert, Peter and Nik — getting jammier over time, as often happens with bands like this as their chemistry continues to develop in the studio and on stage, but the fact that “Buntovnost” was “partially improvised” and recorded live in five takes in the studio makes me think there’s an element of perfectionism at play as well, and it could be interesting to hear if and how that flourishes in their sound too, and if, no matter how far out they might go in veering from it ultimately, they stick to using a central plan in their work going forward.

Man, new bands are fun.

The underlying point? There’s potential here. We don’t yet know what Bismut will be sound-wise — and please don’t quote me on any of the speculation above (unless I’m right); the band could just as easily pull a Wight and go funk-reggae out of the blue, and really, who saw that coming? — But that “Buntovnost” triggers the imagination to wonder about such things in its chugging, turning, energized nine-minute stretch is emblematic of their potential as a whole. “Buntovnost” is available as a name-your-price download at their Bandcamp and they’ve also got a brand new video for it that you can see below if you’re so inclined.

More info follows from the PR wire. Please enjoy:

Bismut, “Buntovnost” official video

“Buntovnost” by Bismut. Recorded live in the studio and partially improvised. This is the best version of 5 takes. No edits. Enjoy! This track was recorded live at Studio 888 and mixed and mastered by Bismut. Recorded and Edited by NNfilm: http://nnfilm.nl

From explosive and experimental jam sessions in the caverns of the Nijmegen underground arose Bismut. Infinite jamming resulted in an oasis of psychedelic excesses, vicious riffing and heavily drawn-out grooves. After their debut performance in November 2016, the three guys played many kick-ass shows in the Netherlands and abroad. The performances of Bismut are dynamic, intense and straightforward.

In 2018 the band’s focus will be on recording their first full-length which is expected to be released in oktober on the in Hamburg based label, Pink Tank Records.

[Click play above to stream the premiere of ‘Dead Moon’ from Low Orbit’s Spacecake. Album is out early Dec. on Pink Tank Records.]

Given the associated ideas of thick, consuming fuzz, spaced-out vibes, massive and rolling grooves and a general checked-out-of-life overarching spirit to the proceedings as a whole, one might be forgiven for immediately thinking of Sons of Otis upon hearing that the earth-buzzing sound you hear from the ground originates in Toronto, Ontario. But with their second album and Pink Tank Records debut, the three-piece Low Orbit make a strong case for themselves as practitioners of the riffly form. Spacecake — reminds of Patton Oswalt’s “skycake” bit; look it up — is the suitably molten and somewhat single-minded follow-up to Low Orbit‘s 2014 self-titled debut, and it arrives as a manageable six-track/42-minute LP that ignites a feeling psychedelic drift through tonal density, the guitar of Angelo Catenaro (also vocals) very much leading the way while backed by Joe Grgic‘s bass and synth and Emilio Mammone‘s drums.

From opener “Dead Moon” onward, their intentions as a group could hardly be clearer or presented in a less pretentious manner. Five out of the six cuts included directly reference space or some space-minded element in their title — “Dead Moon,” “Planet X,” “Shades of Neptune,” “Venus,” and “Lunar Lander,” in that order — and even closer “Machu Picchu” nestles itself into repetitions of “burn the sky” from Catanero after lyrics about the stars, new dawns rising and planets laid to waste, etc. I’m not sure where the ‘cake’ portion of the album’s name comes into play except perhaps in some reference to edibles or in terms of the record itself, which feels duly baked and iced, particularly as the title is referenced in the 10-minute “Shades of Neptune,” which is a highlight as it rounds out side A with a particularly resonant lysergic ooze.

The lava begins to churn after a brief bit of introductory synth at the start of “Dead Moon,” and there’s just about no letup from there. In terms of influences, “Dead Moon” nods — and I do mean nods — at the aforementioned propensity for rolling grooves from fellow Torontonians Sons of Otis, and one can hear shades of earliest Mars Red Sky in the ride-cymbal-punctuated bouncing verse of “Planet X,” but at root beneath both of these and much of the rest of Spacecake is post-Sleep riff idolatry, and Low Orbit do well finding a place for themselves within that context. Lead layers emerge over a wash of high and low fuzz in “Planet X,” and though subtle and in some places buried deep in the mix, that current of synth and effects is almost always present in one form or another, and its flourish both adds to the breadth that Low Orbit cast and bolsters the cosmic theme through which their work is seeking to function.

Both “Dead Moon” and “Planet X” offer a tonal warmth that one might take as a contrast to the coldness of atmospheric vacuum, but they’re hardly the first to make that pairing, and as they cut the pace on “Shades of Neptune” to an even more languid push, any and all such grounded concerns more or less dissipate in deference to the groove that emerges. Like the cuts surrounding, one would hardly accuse “Shades of Neptune” of making any revolutionary moves, but it is a more than capable play to style from the trio, whose persona is established within the individual examples of songwriting and in the interplay between them over the flowing and laid back course the band sets into the very heart of the “far out” itself.

With the willful adoption of genre tropes that pervades, one expects side B of Spacecake to mirror and perhaps reinforce the accomplishments of the album’s first half, and to the greater extent, it does precisely that. At five and six minutes, respectively, “Venus” and “Lunar Lander” answer the mid-paced density called out by “Dead Moon” and “Planet X,” and as it reaches just under nine, indeed “Machu Picchu” offers a tempo dip to back up that in “Shades of Neptune.” Fortunately, this is achieved with no discernible decline in the quality of hooks, and as Catanero shouts out the chorus of “Lunar Lander” ahead of the bigger roll that takes hold past the song’s midpoint, it becomes apparent that perhaps Low Orbit haven’t played their complete hand yet in terms of how much they have to offer sound-wise. The closer furthers this supposition with a well-honed-if-self-aware ritualized vibe, led off by Grgic‘s bass and a backing drone to give an immediately Om-style feel. Not at all unwelcome.

A melodic semi-wash takes hold, vocals echo from far off, and Low Orbit find ambient reaches heretofore unknown to Spacecake even as they make their way to a more straightforward march in the chorus. “Machu Picchu” undulates like this throughout its 8:52, coming forward and receding again, and it winds up in a lead-topped crescendo in its last minute that chugs to a sudden-seeming fadeout that one imagines could’ve easily gone on another three or four minutes on its own had the band chosen to have it do so. Perhaps their relative brevity is to be commended, since it would almost be too simple to have Spacecake push into stoner indulgence, and certainly by that time, Low Orbit‘s underlying message has been well delivered. Hidden within a standard subspace signal is a carrier wave to the converted: Come nod with us. It’s warm here and familiar and feels like home.

Set for release early next year is the debut album from Singapore-based heavy rock four-piece Marijannah. Details are pretty light thus far on Till Marijannah, including a solid issue date — the band has said “February” — but when it does show up, the vinyl will arrive via Pink Tank Records and the band features members of Wormrot and The Caulfield Cult digging into heavy garage and semi-psych vibes. They show off some of same in the first streaming single to come from Till Marijannah, the six-and-a-half-minute “Snakecharmer,” which is one of the four inclusions on the record as a whole.

I’m not saying I’ve heard the full thing yet or anything like that, but at least on first impression, it’s a tough one to pin down sound-wise, and that proves to be very much a strength working in its favor. Okay, I’ve heard it. The vibe is heavy and raw and somewhat aggressive, but what Marijannah do atmospherically remains somewhat laid back and it’s not like they ever really explode in nastier fare or anything like that. It’s a trip I’m looking forward to getting to know better over the coming months as we head toward the release, looking back on this post and being like, “Wow, I had no fucking idea what I was talking about.” That’ll be fun. Because I don’t. Invariably.

Marijannah – Pink Tank Records

Marijannah is a Stoner/Doom Metal band from Singapore. Made up of members of two of the tiny island’s hardest touring bands, Wormrot & The Caulfield Cult.

Marijannah combines finest parts of classic Doom Metal structures with a taste of Stoner driven riffing. On top the four guys garnish their massive sound with a good dose of Psychedelic Rock. Marijannah’s debut record “Till Marijannah” is scheduled to be released in early 2018 on Pink Tank Records.

German heavy progressive rockers Aux will release their second album, Troubadour, in December via Pink Tank Records. Following up their 2012 debut, Pursuit of Progress, the Kiel-based five-piece explore a stylistically varied corresponding five tracks, ranging in impression from the post-grunge hookmaking of “Fives” through bluesy classicism of “Deadly Rage” and into the garage foreboding moodiness of centerpiece “Filter” before the pair of 10-minute cuts, “Geocentric” and “Phantom,” comprise a second half for Troubadour that finds itself equally comfortable nodding toward King Crimson and Radiohead. Fed by a constant stream of jazzy basslines and fluid guitar work, the 40-minute long-player avoids pretense while remaining thoughtful in its construction, and as the lineup of vocalist Paul, guitarists Richi (rhythm) and Micha (lead), bassist Jannis and drummer Ole make their way through, they follow a clearly-set linear path that gracefully executes an overarching master plan.

In other words, even as they dig into the grit that builds over the alternately airy and earthbound guitar work in the choruses of “Fives” — and again, the bass that holds it all together — they’re aware of the moves they’re making, and Troubadour at no point feels like a record of happenstance. Parts may well have been born in jams or fleshed out that way among all members — it’s hard to imagine such creative and adaptable rhythms coming forth in any other manner from Ole, though I suppose it’s possible with an exchange of files or some such other method — but as “Deadly Rage” pushes into its gracefully flowing apex, the balance of rustic feel and sonic fluidity it creates isn’t to be understated. Aux enact a kind of humble hypnosis through their songwriting, and that continues into “Filter” and, perhaps unsurprisingly, into “Geocentric” and “Phantom” as well, but on repeat listens, it’s the melding of different styles and the creation of an organic chemistry from them that makes Troubadour so effective in the first place. Like the idea of the traveling player from which the record takes its name, so too does the album itself go wherever it wants, freely and by its own discretion.

If there’s a downside to an outing of such varied persona, it’s perhaps that it makes it harder to find one single track to represent it as a complete entity — and I fear in my description I haven’t properly emphasized the patience at work in “Geocentric” or the insistence that takes hold in the second half push of “Fives,” so rest assured, there’s a lot going on with Troubadour even though it results in a pretty steady, consistent vibe — but as a basic introduction to the spirit of the release and the natural feel of the production, “Deadly Rage” works well particularly in emphasizing the interplay between the guitars and the rhythm section, drawing out a meandering sensibility that doesn’t necessarily hit as being self-indulgent even when if it came from a band with a more overblown recording, it otherwise might.

That’s a victory in itself, and it comes through on “Deadly Rage,” so as you make your way through the track, it’s something to keep in mind. Troubadour is listed for a Dec. 1 release via Pink Tank, with preorders coming soon.

A quote from the band about “Deadly Rage” and more background from the PR wire follows the song below. Please enjoy:

Aux on “Deadly Rage”:

The song has quite a history to us as it went through several transformations. We wanted to reflect the shifting moods that a person’s mind is undergoing which is shown by the different instrumental vibes. It’s probably the most catchy song on the album and tells what would happen if an ancient deity was expelled to present age, viewing humankind as puppets and playing tricks and games on them.

AUX is a quintet from Kiel, Germany, that has shown its versatility ever since it has been founded back in 2008. Their first album ‘Pursuit of Progress‘ (2012) marks the cornerstone of their sound which is influenced by progressive, art and psychedelic rock.

If there is one constant that can be found within AUX’s music, it is contrasts: While they are nothing else but their musics blueprint, they unleash a swirling maelstrom that swallows the audience into the tension between harmony and disruption.There is a good case to believe that their upcoming second album ‘Troubadour‘ will again reveal another facet of the band. You don‘t want to miss December 2017 as the record will be issued on vinyl, CD and digital via Pink Tank Records!

Primarily, Medicine feels like an exploration of depth. Not just in the sense of asking how low they can go in terms of tone, but what kind of distance can they set up between those lows and highs, how far can a song stretch from one end to the other before, like taffy, it is pulled apart. Excitingly, the cumbersomely-named Bees Made Honey in the Vein Tree (as opposed, one assumes, to doing so in the lion’s skull, à la Earth) never find out, and their five-song/46-minute first full-length stands among 2017’s strongest — and most weighted — heavy psychedelic releases as a result. The Stuttgart, Germany, four-piece recorded Medicine late in Fall 2016 at Milberg Studios and issued it themselves digitally and on CD in January, but a Pink Tank Records vinyl edition brings it to a well-deserved wider distribution and positions the work of guitarist/vocalist/cover artist Simon Weinreich, guitarist Lucas Dreher, bassist/graphic designer Christopher Popowitsch and drummer/vocalist Marc Dreher (relation to Lucas presumed) as particularly satisfying in its blend of extended, jammed-out instrumental sections and denser tonality.

Without losing sight of their core mission, Bees Made Honey in the Vein Tree proffer liquefied flow between and within their tracks, coming across as cohesive and patient as a cut like the 14-minute penultimate “Sail Away I” demonstrates in unfolding lines of intertwining guitar and bass held together by the underlying drums on a steady, immersive build that’s warm, headphone-ready, melodically rich and hypnotic without being meandering. Medicine works quickly in that song’s echoing spaces and those of the 10-minute opener “Every Night I Walk the Same Trail of Thought” to earn a place as one of the best debuts of the year.

One can hear the influence of Colour Haze in some of the more open stretches, and that never hurts, but even more than the Munich-based progenitors of the style, Medicine directly reminds of the 2010 debut from Dutch trio Sungrazer. That’s not a comparison I make lightly, and while some of the fuzz that coats the driving first crescendo (preceding the crashing second one) of “Sail Away I” might draw a sonic line in that direction, it’s one even more about the act of blending heavy rock and psych impulses in a specific way and with an overarching naturalism that becomes a righteously defining element. If I note that Medicine might be the most engaging heavy psych debut I’ve heard since Sungrazer‘s self-titled, it will invariably sound like hyperbole, but I’m hard pressed to think of more than a handful of first offerings that have brought forth the same clearheaded idea of what they wanted to do and realize it in the same way. If nothing else, it sets Bees Made Honey in the Vein Tree on a path of becoming a truly special kind of band, and one whose impact, in the tradition of Samsara Blues Experiment or Black Moon Circle or others building memorable songs out of jams, may resonate over a longer term.

Structurally, Medicinebenefits greatly from starting its two sides with the longer pieces. “Every Night I Walk the Same Trail of Thought” begins so quietly that at first one might be tempted to double-check that it’s actually playing, and while neither “Burn the Sun” (7:40) nor “Medicine” (6:38) slouches in terms of runtime, there’s a notable departure from the shimmering guitar that sounds the opener’s first notes toward crunchier-riffed push as “Burn the Sun” gets moving. There’s still space for space, to be sure, but even as the guitars air out leads late before turning to the heads-down riff that brings the song to its end, there’s an undercurrent of low-end heft behind them that makes for both counterpoint and complement. Likewise, the title-cut and centerpiece launches open and jammy to foreshadow some of the post-rock elements still to come in closer “Sail Away II” (6:54), but makes its way after the two-minute mark via feedback into a heavier plod that would seem to be the source of the band’s claim on an aspect of doom within their approach. It’s slow and heavy, anyhow. In context, the mood doesn’t necessarily feel down or dark in the way one might expect, but to quibble about self-imposed genre tags feels like missing the point. There’s a fluidity there. Better to go with it.

And Bees Made Honey in the Vein Tree make a convincing argument for doing so, which turns out to be one of Medicine‘s great strengths. Its tracks earn the listener’s trust such that following the band along the trail they’re walking becomes an absolute joy rather than something done tentatively, and the jammier vibe of “Sail Away I” and willful delve into post-rocking drift in “Sail Away II” gracefully expand on what side A accomplishes before them, “Sail Away I” resolving itself in blown-out echoing vocals and a nodding apex, and the finale holding to its peaceful guitar progression even as some of Medicine‘s heftiest lumbering plays out beneath. That last emphasis on the two sides meeting head on in Bees Made Honey in the Vein Tree‘s work serves to highlight the duality at work across the album’s entirety, but it’s not a staid thing by any means, and it wouldn’t work if it was.

The band are clearly comfortable in adjusting the balance to suit the needs of their material, and whether that’s done consciously in arranging parts and pieces or something that just comes out of different jams, it’s no less crucial to Medicine‘s ultimate success. There’s a telling moment after “Sail Away II” has blissed itself into final lines of fading guitar when we hear a chair creak and what sounds like drum sticks get laid down. It’s over. These quick, last few seconds are an effective acknowledgement thatMedicine is intended to convey a live experience — it may well have been recorded live, I don’t know — and Bees Made Honey in the Vein Tree, who’ve already proliferated such an organic chemistry, seem to hint that along with the exploration of spaciousness at work throughout their material, the corresponding message with that is that the direction in which they’re headed has been plotted naturally, i.e. in an unforced manner. One can only hope they continue to tread the path Medicine lays out before them.